Severus Snape's 35th Birthday Celebration
by galleons
Summary: Or when the bloody costume just won't go away. Sequel to LATE ARRIVALS AND LIFETIME RIVALS: Snape's Worst Halloween
1. Chapter 1: An Owl's Epitaph

**Severus Snape's 35th Birthday Celebration**

**The Sequel to Late Arrivals and Lifetime Rivals: Snape's Worst Halloween **

_About 3 months after the Order of the Phoenix and the Dark Lord threw a Halloween party…separately, of course._

**Author's Note:** Charon is an owl that belongs to Snape that I just came up with and makes several appearances in my other fanfics. He is a Slytherin and proud of it.

**Disclaimer:** There is no way I wrote or sought to profit from the Harry Potter books or characters. This is just for fun. What I mean is I make nothing from fanfics nor do I wish to.

My vault at Gringotts is next to where the Lestrange vault is and it is quite empty…and not because a dragon burst through the area either.

**Chapter 1: An Owl's Epitaph**

Charon, the owl of Professor Severus Snape, left the office of Headmaster Albus Dumbledore as fast as he could when he was dismissed.

_Quite frankly…I don't need this ….er, what was that muggle curse again? _mused the owl in exasperation.

And then he went into what only could be a state of shock.

If anyone saw him swoop out of the hallways and down to the stairs leading to the dungeons they would know something was amiss. His feathers drooped slightly and his once proud owl head was bowed in disgrace.

_Merlin's Bullocks! I am the offspring of the majestic, famed, wizarding world-reknowned Hades Malfoy and Tabitha Black… er, one of 32 of their children, but still… I came from a long line of pureblood, moneyed ancestors and this is what has become of me and my master. It didn't bear thinking!_

Lucius Malfoy had thought enough of him to pick him from 6 of the best in a strong, healthy litter of owls that gray day in 1991. Hand-picked, selected because he demonstrated early on sterling qualities of Slytherin and those of his Black /Malfoy fore-bearers and he was gifted to Severus Snape when Draco started his first year at Hogwarts.

_Draco's parents even purchased an owl at Eeylops when he went off to school for the first time because the rest were given to friends as I was, in a show of good faith, and two of the six were kept at home!_

_Yes, it was to butter up my master Snape, but apparently my brother Rodney wasn't chosen…nor my sister Clarice._

The owl thought that maybe that should have been, because he couldn't bear to go down to the dungeons and deliver the message that Albus Dumbledore had just told him to give to his master, Snape.

Charon thought wistfully about the good times they had shared over the last few years.

_My master… Severus Snape…who had reared me with tough, er, love and had coached me in the ways of Salazar Slytherin and his House: ambition, craftiness, determination, and competitiveness._

_Snape, who was much more than a master to me…my partner in crime when we made Professor Vector and Sinistra's lives a living hell as we ridiculed Sinistra's attempts at singing in the Hogwarts Choir and delivered blood lollipops and cockroach clusters to Vector's doorstep with evil glee. Who joined me as we tore to shreds what little was left of Longbottom's self-esteem and put Potter down a peg every chance we could get. How I loved telling my master who took a special thrill; showing his pride in me with a twisted smirk on his face at how I jeered mercilessly at Hedwig in the owlery, that her boy Potter wasn't so special after all. I thrived in looking over my master's shoulder when he picked up his feather quill and scripted a huge, fat, red __**F**__ on Gryffindor Potions exams, or denying Granger bonus points…just because we could. As we sat every year in his office before the start of term sorting and feast, hoping that another Weasley hadn't been bred and the both of us sniggered dastardly…._

Actually, the owl reveled in anything his owner did to undermine the Gryffindors. A personal joy of Charon's was watching the rubies fly back up to the top of their hourglass.

_This was it. My master would never survive this. _

And Charon would mourn him greatly.

What this owl wouldn't give to retire his services and fly free and off duty to the owlery, but with his master still among the living.

First, there had been the Order of the Phoenix Halloween party at the place he couldn't say because he wasn't a secret keeper. Than another party the following October and finally there was the Dark Lord's Halloween Party at Lord Voldemort's father's house.

_And now…it was this._

His greatest fear was being realized, for something told him that the costume…._the costume…_ was about to be taken out of the box again.

_And all I had to do was feign an accident. Knock into a candle…near the costume. Or pretend that I mistakenly thought the costume was another box that had to be delivered somewhere and I had "accidentally" dropped it into a bubbling cauldron. I could… steal the box and place it in Sinistra's quarters and blame her…no…that wouldn't do either._

Alas, Charon, the owl, perceived that his owner had mastered legilimancy and it wasn't an option.

However, avada kedavra was, and he would gladly, gladly succumb to the worst, the very worst of the unforgivable wizarding curses than relay the message that was now tied to his leg and bobbing in the air. The piece of parchment that would finally break his master's hard, cold, reserve.

He had appeared not to be paying much attention when in all actuality he had been reading over Dumbledore's shoulder before he rolled the parchment and had tied it to his leg. He read all of his master's mail.

_There was nothing my master couldn't handle, nothing he hadn't seen in his nearly 35 years, but this…this…._

Hogwarts was throwing a 35th Birthday party for their Potions Master, Severus Snape, and invitees were being asked to come in costume.

Worst of all, it was not just for the Order of the Phoenix, the whole school was invited as well. And, hell, ex-Death Eaters had been known to enter the castle so who really knew who would show up? Karkaroff had showed up at that bloody Yule Ball and so had Barty Crouch, Jr., polyjuiced like that old, gruff codger Moody.

_Yes! That would be better by far than delivering this message. Taking a dementor to the face…but where would his soul go? Ok, forget that…._

_Dumbledore had better find another spy because he just killed the one he had_! mused Charon regrettably, at what he deemed was the headmaster's foolishness, foolishness that would do in his master.

_A brilliant, formidable wizard in his prime…that bloody costume would do what the Dark Lord could not. And, I, Charon had fallen. Couldn't Dumbledore be merciful…how many bloody owl years did I have left? We didn't live as long as humans or as some of the blasted Frankenstein-like concoctions that Rubeus Hagrid bred in the forest that me and Snape knew about. Really….did they believe us to be stupid? Or daft? Really!_

And who would he, Charon turn to? Could he fly to the Malfoy estate and offer his services? Hold up the banner and Prince family honor for his soon to be late master and all of Slytherin House and seek employment with another family? He would not work with the Crabbes or Goyles, however. He felt they were not really among the prestigious families anymore and that the rumor was they had troll blood within their blood lines somewhere along the way.

_I couldn't be too choosy. I was ruined….yes, by Merlin…Dumbledore had just brought about my downfall and ruination. Merlin only knew that by this time next year I could very well be in the employ of a Hufflepuff family!_

Charon, fearing he was on the verge of a panic attack, steeled himself before entering.

How had his fortunes sunk so low?

_My mother, my dear, sweet mother…well, that I only knew for two weeks of nursing, but still…she would be turning in her owl grave._

He halted at the door to his master's office. He took a short breath and wrapped with his beak.


	2. Chapter 2: Wrath of the Potions Master

**Severus Snape's 35****th**** Birthday Celebration**

**Chapter 2: Wrath of the Potions Master**

"Good afternoon, Professor Sna-" The boy never finished his words as the swirling black cloak breezed past him, whipping him in the side as his Potions Master strode at light speed down the gloomy stone corridor.

The corridor was packed and several students who feared not greeting Professor Snape as he passed, figured they would take a chance at his recalling this at a later date and seeking possible vindictive actions for their inappropriate lack of respect due a Hogwarts professor, because they feared to say anything to the face that instantly turned into a black blur as he shot past them. There were so many students in the hallway…would he identify them all? One never knew with Snape. Apparently the git missed nothing.

Because when the face was in focus for mere seconds as he glided by; it was quite horrifying. Pale, thin, with eyebrows that were raised almost into his hairline. The thin lips were receding into a sneer so unfathomable, they had never witnessed it before. And the eyes… black, cold, and seemingly hell-bent on somebody's destruction.

A Hufflepuff student who had seen Neville Longbottom walking toward Snape with his toad, Trevor, and books in hand, in the opposite direction, feared for him and the toad, and pulled him to the side. Snape had already threatened to poison Trevor and if he would do that to an innocent toad, what could he possibly have in store for poor Neville?

And bobbing behind Professor Snape and hurrying yet trailing in his wake was his loyal owl Charon. Who was clearly experiencing difficulty keeping up with his master, an opened piece of parchment gripped in his claws. Fred Weasley swore to those around him that Charon was huffing and puffing worse than Errol after a particularly arduous journey.

And if any students were truly skilled in legilimancy they would have perhaps noted that Charon was cursing both Professor Dumbledore and Professor Snape silently as he struggled to tail his master. Charon vowed that if he managed to encounter a most unfortunate Professor Sinistra in the hallway he would take his frustrations out on her, for her disgraceful warbling while assisting Flitwick in the Hogwarts choir that ruined his naps.

Professor Snape had two very different paces that students who had studied with him recognized. He usually strode at a quicker pace with authority and smug deliberation if he had to be somewhere quickly or responded nastily to something or someone that needed his immediate attention. Or he slinked much slower and confidently and with calculated steps as smoothly and languidly as a dementor floated. Especially if he wished to sneak up behind someone in class, his soft-voiced, foreboding presence revealing himself only at the very last second, as he had artfully intended and had honed to perfection, before he ripped your efforts smoothly and quietly to shreds and in such a sharp, quick-witted manner. And as you tried to keep your nerves together and proceed to his next set of instructions that had magically appeared on the board as you worked over your cauldron, you marveled that he was on the other side of the classroom mere seconds ago. He was always early to class and never rushed. Well, the gloomy and miserable lurking bastard had nothing better to do and never missed a day of class so that was no surprise.

But even at his busiest, Professor Snape never moved this fast, and his dire expression said it all.

He was right pissed; an unbridled anger they had never beheld before and could only imagine who or what it was directed at.

Was it a student? Did something happen? People who were not in the corridor with Longbottom guessed he had blown up another cauldron? Some guessed it had something to do with Potter whom everyone knew Snape detested with every ounce of his being. But then they saw Harry, Hermione, and Ron walking to another class in the corridor and their three heads move to the side suddenly as they saw a livid, nearly mad-looking Snape march past them in a self-contained and controlled frenzy.

Ron observed that he was very grateful they didn't have double potions scheduled today.

Professor Vector, who was on her way to the Astronomy Tower to have tea with her friend Professor Sinistra, knew something was amiss when he passed her in the hallways and never batted an eye and even more telling, he failed to insult her or her teaching methods.

Actually she became very concerned.

And the word spread as students jumped back near a wall, a suit of armor, a stained glass window in fear and seeking shelter, to clear the way and leave it open for Snape by dodging him as if a bludger made of iron spikes was coming at them with frenetic speed, because he was plowing through and not stopping and they wished to not make contact with him as he sleekly and effortlessly barreled past, the black robes rippling in his wake.

And McGonagall and Flitwick were just walking past Professor Dumbledore's office when they saw the tall, dark figure go past them. The robes undulating behind him, the black boots lightly audible on the stone floors, the constricting black cravat underneath his chin, the stiff white collar and cuffs that cut such a contrast to the dark blur and long greasy dark hair that swung violently around his face, and he picked up even more speed and then abruptly halted in front of a statue of a griffin.

The black eyes narrowed and the dark eyebrows lowered a little. But the murderous expression remained. Some feared the statue would come to life from the kinetic tension and power emanating off of Professor Snape's person.

Or that when he removed his wand deftly and raised it to the statue, that it ran the risk of being hexed to bits.

He stood there for awhile and spoke softly words that nobody could hear. The stone corridor was now desolate. Well anyone there had fled and ran to others to ask if they had seen him and to speculate about who or what it could possibly be about.

McGonagall and Flitwick exchanged knowing looks and hesitated when they saw that Professor Snape had failed to gain entry into the stairwell leading to Dumbledore's office anteroom. They heeded caution yet slowly walked over to where he was standing.

His back was turned to them and was still facing the immobile statue that hadn't swung its wings to the side to allow entry.

They still heard murmurings that grew louder and clearer and finally made sense as they reached him.

When he was angry his voice grew lower, deeper, and more waspish, chillingly breathy almost, yet still remained the slightly nasal, caressing voice, so it was understandable that the words were unclear, and undeniable that he was very, very, angry.

"Cockroach clusters….blood lollipops…cockroach clusters….lemon drops….fizzing…what the hell are those bloody things called for Merlins' sake…"

"Severus" said Minerva cautiously.

The words stopped him and broke his reverie during his chanting of sweet possibilities and the back straightened. He had heard them. He paused and then slowly turned his head to them. He was seething, his teeth bared, and his paler than usual face looked maddened and almost unhinged.

"Yesssss?" It was almost a hiss. A response was coaxed out of the rigid posture. She saw his chest rise and fall and heard his labored, livid breathing

"Professor Dumbledore just changed the password. It is, er, pepper imps."

"Really… pepper imps… is it now?"

"Yes, Severus…pepper imps."

He turned and inclined his head and became silent as he called out to his owl with his back turned once again.

"Charon… the parchment?"

The owl, out of breath, moved towards his master and handed him the parchment with his beak.

Professor Snape said nothing and held out his hand for the parchment and enclosed his long pale fingers over it.

"That will be all, Charon. To the owlery, I will summon you later."

The owl swooped away from the statue as fast as he could after his near nervous collapse as he still contemplated job opportunities with the small amount of pureblood families still in existence, so as not to lose face.

Severus still hadn't moved. He tapped the parchment with his wand and it folded. He then carefully placed it in his robes, looked down at his wand, thought better of it, and placed it deftly in the pocket within the side of his voluminous robes.

"Pepper….imps…" he stated firmly to the griffin statue.

The statue moved to the side and revealed a stone staircase.

Professor Snape stepped into the stairwell, smoothed the back of his robes carefully onto a step, and ascended.

Professors McGonagall and Flitwick could only gape as the snarling Potions Master rose out of sight.

"Filius, I know you are free now but could you please go to the transfiguration classroom and stay with my class for a few moments? Tell them I will be there shortly. They are to read the next chapter and take notes and I will arrive soon. Class is not cancelled for this afternoon," she reassured him firmly predicting their inquiry.

"Why are you staying here? Do you think it, er, wise, Minerva?"

"Filius, I would be most grateful to you, of course, and perhaps I should remind you that if the need arose that I became headmistress, you by seniority, become deputy headmaster. If I need your assistance I will send a student to alert you."

"Oh, dear lord, you think he just heard?"

"Yes, I do."


	3. Chapter 3: Snector?

**Severus Snape's 35****th**** Birthday Celebration**

**Chapter 3: Snector?**

_Oh, dear Merlin…_

Professor Vector was scribbling in a ledger in her office when she saw a black blur quickly pass her office. She had been settling some accounts from a store in Hogsmeade where she had ordered some items for her classroom.

_Busy, keep busy…_

She had also been hiding out in her office since she had heard about the party that the Headmaster, for some Merlin forsaken reason, was planning for Snape. She really had to question the Headmaster sometimes and his obvious desire to have his heart in the right place but apparently not his brain.

_Must be me…_

She was tired. It had been a long day. She had two third year Arithmancy classes today and one fifth year double. There never seemed to be enough class time and in another month or two it was time to start preparing for exams and getting the fifth and seventh year students ready for O.W.L.s. Arithmancy was not an easy subject to instruct though she loved it. Some took the course because it was required for subjects they would need to enter certain careers and found the math involved almost impossible to figure out. It exhausted her but she assisted anyone that needed extra help. It was a process. Some studied very hard and others did not, and just assumed that without practice the math would magically work itself out with no effort on their part.

She put down her quill and rubbed her eyes. The black blur had passed her door again…

Now she was sure she wasn't seeing things. Now that she was avoiding Snape and waiting for his horror to pass about the party. Due to fatigue, she had believed that she was just having false visions of black robes billowing about past her office door.

That was not the case.

"Vector…." A soft, low voice carried from her door.

She winced and looked up from her desk.

There he was. The tense and foreboding presence, sinister robes in tow, was at her door.

_Damn it…why didn't I keep my office door closed?_

Long dark robes overflowed and undulated menacingly onto the stone floors, very much like a dementor. That was fine with her. It was the expression that was frightening.

He appeared unhinged. His dark eyes stared at her and looked about to fairly snap. His lips were pursed and thin, his face was pale and drawn, and she had no idea why he was here. She resisted the temptation to contact Minerva in her office to check if Dumbledore was still among the living after the invitations went out.

It took all of her concerted efforts to appear calm.

"Severus…are you allright?"

"No," he snapped. "May I come in?" he asked, his voice strained and inaudibly low.

"Uh, certainly… Er, what can I do for you? Would you like to sit down?" she asked nervously.

He shot her a dark look and shook his head wordlessly. She guessed not, and that somehow she had said the wrong thing.

"Surely you have heard by now about the…upcoming event at Hogwarts?" his teeth were bared and he was even paler than before.

"Yes, I-I did. I didn't get a formal invitation yet though…"

"Well, I would expect that you would attend," he informed her smoothly.

"Of course, Snape. You were my mentor. I will go…" though she hadn't convinced herself why yet.

"That is not what I mean." His tone was inscrutable.

"You,er, don't want me to go?" she asked politely. She was perplexed. What the hell in Merlin's beard had she done now? She had been avoiding him for hours.

"No, why would I not?" "Professor Dumbledore…"

His face was twisted with rage.

"…is escorting McGonagall and Flitwick is attending with Sprout."

"That's, uh, nice. Really nice, Severus…" Her voice was warm and soothing.

"And I… am the guest of honor." He glared at her looking slightly murderous.

"Of course…"She couldn't believe the unnaturally upbeat voice was coming out of her mouth.

"Do you… get my meaning, Vector?" he asked softly, yet the black eyebrows were knitting above the pale face.

_Oh, Merlin, there was a catch. I know it. I know _him._ I can feel it…_

"Yes, that is great."

Snape ignored her and continued. "Madame Maxine will be meeting Hagrid there and…"

"How wonderful!" she sighed approvingly.

"…and I am quite sure the _wolf…_Lupin and Nymphadora and…."

"Excellent."

He looked at her as if she was the stupidest woman imaginable. "Vector, you still don't understand do you?"

And then it dawned on her. Her blood chilled. "Ooh, oh wait….are you asking if I would go?"

He finished for her painfully"….with me," he whispered in agony. And his eye contact dropped for a split second.

"Is this like a date," she bellowed in shock." She could have kicked herself, but the artless wretch still threw her surprises that she never quite prepared herself for.

"NO…no, Vector… never that…" he snarled, clearly in the agonies of embarassment. "…but what do fools do on such occasions? They escort someone and I feel that because I was your mentor that you would honor our…." His sallow cheeks emitted a flush so red, she could barely look up at him. She had never seen it before. It made her feel a bit stronger in his presence. And then she was pissed because he looked like he was turning her down for a date as if she really was a hag.

"Ok. Fine then," she snapped. Why was she insulted? She should be relieved that he had never set his attentions on her.

_Merlin, he could at least lie about it to not hurt her feelings. What a dolt!_

Snape rolled his wand handle though his fingers and realized that his palms were sweaty. And he couldn't exactly switch it to his other hand and discreetly wipe his hand on his robe because he would look ridiculous.

He would _throttle _Dumbledore when he saw him again for putting him in such a position.

This was far worse than taking Vector as his escort, dressed as a truly foul-looking hag, to a party thrown by the Dark Lord.

He hadn't exactly handled it well when he went to Dumbledore's office.


	4. Chapter 4: Party Planning at the Riddle

**Severus Snape's 35****th**** Birthday Celebration**

**Chapter 4: Party Planning at the Riddle House**

**Author's Note: ****Sorry, but this won't make sense from now on without the prequel. The prequel to this story is: **_**Late Arrivals and Lifetime Rivals: Snape's Worst Halloween**_

_The Riddle House…._

Lord Voldemort sat in a large winged armchair near the hearth in the Riddle House. Wormtail was at his side, quill poised in his good hand, and a piece of parchment balanced in his lap as he sat at the feet of his master. Nagini rested near the side of her master's chair and Alecto and Amycus Carrow stood near the door on guard, as if anyone would come to the door unannounced. It was more for show.

Lord Voldemort was steadily approaching his 50th anniversary as Lord Voldemort, and wished to throw a party celebrating that fact and the formation of his followers the Death Eaters.

All of the details were being carefully worked out in the living room of the Riddle House.

The Dark Lord was deep in concentration and then he spoke in a high, cold voice…

"For the first segment of the party…I wish to assemble a montage or a tribute to fallen Death Eaters. We will include Rosier, Karkaroff, Regulus Black, that novice Quirrell, that bumbling idiot Crouch…and there are so many others. Make a list, Wormtail…" the Dark Lord demanded.

"But my lord, _you_ killed them, master… well, most of them...some were done in by aurors. You hunted them down and brutally killed them, my lord," Wormtail offered, perplexed.

"So?" said the Dark Lord, in a chilling yet offhand manner.

" Well, then it is not really a tribute to them."

"And? That is not your concern, Wormtail." Wormtail glanced at the petulant mouth and sensed a tantrum brewing, even while the Dark Lord rested in his cozy, fluffy, dark mark house slippers.

"Piñatas…we will require more, and I must admit great wandwork on the part of Narcissa. The Karkaroff piñata's resemblance was uncanny…"

"But Karkaroff was in the tribute…" Lord Voldemort cut him off menacingly.

"I can still beat his papier mache effigy to a paper pulp for my entertainment, can't I?" He glared at Wormtail.

" I want piñatas of Karkaroff, Harry Potter, Albus Dumbledore, and even Sirius Black for making us look bad and just because he is good-looking and he is godfather to Potter."

"What about James and Lily Potter?" asked Wormtail.

"Go ahead with James, not Lily Evans. Snape would not appreciate that. I can't lose my best spy. He would go off the deep end. You have no idea what it was like when I told him I had to do it. And I preferred not to. A powerful witch and would have been useful if she wasn't so misled."

Yes, James is fine…will go well with the Sirius Black piñata. Did you know those fools made JESTS of our black robes and masks and disrespected the dark mark? That they made up phoenix t-shirts? No originality, really," the Dark Lord scoffed.

Wormtail thought he snorted in rage but considering it wasn't really a nose anymore he wasn't sure.

"Also, it might keep Bella occupied and dissuade her from trying to make a pass at me again. She hates Sirius Black and the fact that they are blood," mused the Dark Lord.

"And I want one of that Remus Lupin, and his sad wife with the crazy hair….dresses like a biker…blood traitor… Bellas's niece," Wormtail believed the Dark Lord was smirking.

"Why?"

"Because a wolf and a witch, my slippery friend…it's just gross…no other reason, but it disturbs our message of what we are trying to do here. I'm not saying that Snape and a hag is any better…"

"Now for me…my nails need to be clipped, toenails too, Wormtail…"the red eyes peered at him daring Wormatil to utter one word of dissention to his request. "My head waxed, my robes ironed, and that cologne…."

"But Bella, er, _liked it_…my lord," whined Wormtail.

"Ok, forget that. I can do without the cologne. I will send you to the apothecary for something else," snapped Voldemort.

"And…the stupid phoenix…I want a pinata that resembles that stupid phoenix. Is it true it just disapparated with _him? _With Albus Dumbledore in front of all those people in his office?"

"Yes, my lord. So I heard."

"But no matter…._I_ do not require a bird to fly or whatever they did, the trusty steed or whatever the damned bird is. I hate _him._ It foiled my plans in the Chamber of Secrets to kill Harry Potter and he killed the basilisk I inherited. Well, Dumbledore's mere pet is no match for my Nagini." Lord Voldemort stroked Nagini affectionately.

"Thankfully, I have one Death Eater, Severus Snape, who has sense to dress like something that honors me and my snake. He is valued. He will be a big part of the anniversary party."

"Nagini," he whispered lovingly to his snake, "it was Severus, not a real snake. We will find you a mate, sweetie. You shall breed, produce more babies for your Voldy, and I will honor you above all other reptiles by entrusting your young into my service."

Nagini nodded in approval and slithered closer to her master.

"Now for your part, Wormtail."

"Two lace aprons for you that you will wear at Severus Snape's insistence…"

"And I think you will be filling drink orders again as well. And if I find out the firewhiskey is not Odgen's, then you will die. Don't try to pawn off that cheap gutter water like last time. I will find out if you pocketed anything from my Halloween party. I will check those receipts again, Wormtail, mark my words," the Dark Lord looked piercingly at Wormtail as if he suspected something.

Wormtail made a face and cursed Snape. He flexed his metal hand to crush him in his imagination.

"Problem, Wormtail?" Lord Voldemort asked airily.

"No, master."

"Good. I thought not. Also, we all liked your rat costume last year so you shall dress as a rat again. Fitting isn't it? You piece of vermin…"

Wormatil was confused. His animagus form _was_ vermin. How can he be a piece of it? He only lost a piece of his hand, if anything. He scratched his head with his silver hand. Sometimes, brilliant genius as the Dark Lord most certainly was, he said the dumbest things at times.

A high cruel voice threatened and broke his thoughts, "and if it is brought to my attention that the ice gets watery, Wormtail, you shall not live to regret it…and black umbrellas for the cocktails…I rather think a nice touch."

"Oh, and before I forget….Invite the hag…"

"Severus' girlfriend?"

Alecto, who had since been quiet while standing near the front door, let out a blood-curdling scream of frustration.

Lord Voldemort held out his wand, pointed at her, and softly said, "Crucio."

The cries went silent and she crumpled in a heap to the floor.

"Carrow, go and check if your sister is dead. If she is… I promised my snake."

"Yes, my lord." Amycus kneeled next to his sister. Grabbed her by the hair and carried her off to another room.

"She may be useful…that hag."

"How?"

"Say _my lord_, Wormtail," commanded the Dark Lord in a menacing tone.

"Sorry, how my lord?"

"The hag may keep Bella at a distance… highly useful."

"But do you think she would come?"

"Of course, didn't you notice? Am I the only one who read the body language there. IT'S SERIOUS! " bellowed the Dark Lord, looking around as if there were others in the room.

"And it is probably good for Snape. He has highly stressful duties …you try working with Albus Dumbledore and living on his grounds 24-7 and having to listen to him spew nonsense about duty, honor… love... _all day_…The thought makes me quite ill. And Severus Snape hasn't been with a woman or a magical female creature perhaps in such a long time. It can't be healthy. Why look at you, Wormtail. Order the hag some cockroach clusters," he demanded imperiously.

"Actually, my lord, I have told you before but you would not listen…"

"Oh, about him and that professor?" Voldemort rolled his eyes, patted his snake, and looked bored.

"I have seen her. She is very beautiful….there are rumors that he cares for her….she has dark hair, bluish-purple eyes, fair skin, her body…." trailed Wormtail reminiscing.

"And?"

"Very smart…good at math, worked at Gringotts…. a talented witch…doubt she loves him back though…and he is picky, but I find her to be perfect. Saw her with that Ron Weasley's friend. The bushy-haired girl with the big teeth took her classes," squeaked Wormtail. It was about the only thing he agreed with Snape on. His co-worker _was_ lovely. And Wormtail had to laugh. He was a fool and most likely nothing would ever come of it because he doubted Snape would ever do anything about it.

"She is a fool then. Snape is my protégé. He is brilliant…an excellent wizard…the son I never had, and now probably can't have after the steps I took to stay in power. And he is also dreadfully miserable, a big grouch. He hates everyone which is highly useful being a Death Eater. It is why he is so good at what he does. So moody that there are times that even I wish him not to be in my presence. Kills the atmosphere in the room… but I am telling you all… he _loves_ the hag. Nobody believes me!" Lord Voldemort threw up his hands in frustration. "I have thoroughly almost given up on the matter. You people are so dim."

"My lord, he cares deeply for the Arithmancy professor. He goes out of his way to make her life miserable on a daily basis, and puts more effort into it than anyone thought possible. She holds attraction for him and more attention than he gives to anyone but you. She is never far from him. He does everything he can to torture the poor girl because he hasn't even sorted out his feelings for himself yet. This is what I heard."

"That's quite enough. How dare you start in with this again! He loves the hag! I can tell. I am the greatest legilimans that ever lived. I am never wrong," shouted the Dark Lord.

"…and add some blood lollipops to our order while you are at it."

"Why?"

"Say _why my lord_, Wormtail," he brandished his wand and pointed it at Wormtail.

"Sorry, why, my lord?"

"Lorcan D'eath is performing… and invite his friend Sanguini and tell them to bring a friend."

"Why?"

"You are dim, Wormtail. I will kill you in your sleep as soon as I can replace you. Count on it. This lack of respect is really quite alarming."

"At any rate…" sighed the Dark Lord, as he leaned in to whisper conspiratorially to Wormtail. "Well, I care nothing for you all…but as for me I will take my chances. Look at me, Wormtail. Does it really look like it would make a difference in my appearance? And, er, so what if it happened? I would finally discover the immortality I have been seeking for a lifetime. Let him bite me, actually, it couldn't hurt one bit. Any of the vampires… if anything I gain what I have been seeking for so long."

Wormtail thought he was going mad.

"Invite the Lestranges, the Crabbes, Goyles, all the others….we will hold the party at Malfoy Manor. I have already informed Lucius and Narcissa, not that they ever had a choice.

"And a few extras… I want that photo blown up of Dumbledore with those ugly robes he wore in the 1940's when he was Transfiguration professor with the caption, "What was I thinking…I wasn't…" the Dark Lord offered a rare, vicious smile.

"And what few people know… I want a picture blown up of Grindelwald."

"Grindelwald? But why, my lord?"

"Why? You ask, Wormtail? Because nothing makes a person more irate than making fun of the fact that their love interest rejected them. Those wounds go deep. I would have been concerned if Snape, for example, had loved Lily. He just wanted to spend the night with her and look how he took that? I want to rub it in the great Dumbledore's face," he offered sarcastically. "It _will_ get back to him. I know it will. I will make Severus Snape tell him and he will be irate. The old gray-haired fool will say something noble like _it was meant to be_ or _all for_ _the best_ or _there are other fish in the sea_ but I will know better… it will rattle him and I know he never found anyone he cared about that much ever again."

Wormtail could only stare in horror as the Dark Lord mimicked Dumbledore's voice in a furious and gross impersonation at certain parts.

"Have you ever sought to love anyone, my lord?" Wormtail asked so respectfully he thought he might just get away with it. The Dark Lord loved to talk about himself.

"Does it look like it bothers me?"

"I am the Dark Lord…there is no dark lady…and _I am_ adored by thousands and Bella, er, loves me. That more than makes up for it…so Bella is sort of my unofficial consort like when I need one for a party. Tell her a word of this and you will die." He glared at Wormtail. "Look at Snape seeking the attentions of a hag. I persevered."

"You were handsome as Tom Riddle, my lord."

"Yes, yes I was for a time. I am whole. I am now complete. I am strong. I am invincible. I am Lord Voldemort. You don't know what you are talking about, Wormtail. It is inconsequential and it bothers me not in the least."

"Lord Voldemort has no equal… it is not to be…the price to be paid for greatness. I have made peace with it a long time ago…I have no regrets…never did…never will…sufficed to say…."

_So why was he going on about it? _Wormtail had to ask and dropped his eyes so his master, the wizarding world's greatest legilimans, didn't see what he was thinking. And especially thinking that on the eve of the Death Eater's anniversary there were so few of them left.

"We will grow in ranks… how is the recruitment process going?"

"We have recruited three people, my lord."

"Really?"

"Someone that appears to be interested in Snape who is a distant cousin of the Blacks, a layabout but a decent crook, and a former glamour witch who is trying to get back at her parents."

"Promising…" mused the Dark Lord," promising…"

"Pureblood?"

"We think so."

"Good. Invite them then," said Lord Voldemort. "If they are not up to snuff then we kill them."

"Yes, my lord."

Now we will serve…canapés in the shape of Nagini, cookies with my face on them, my pupils will be that muggle red velvet icing…just because I like it. See to it!" He demanded imperiously. "And cupcakes with the dark mark…"

"Now what would be a good date, my lord?"

"You fool …the date I took my name, Lord Voldemort ,and had my very first meeting. January 9th, of course…no, December 25th…" You are a moron ,Wormtail! I don't know why I allow such pathetic filth in my noble presence, do you?" cried the Dark Lord impatiently, in a nasal, high-pitched tone.

_Because nobody else wanted to be_, and Wormtail had the idea that some were thinking of defecting.

Because being a most loyal humble servant, a Death Eater, wasn't all it was cracked up to be.


	5. Chapter 5: In the Confines of the Dungeo

**Severus Snape's 35****th**** Birthday Celebration**

**Chapter 5: In the Confines of the Dungeons**

Severus Snape sat in his office in the dungeons. He was so exhausted, distressed, and full of despair. He thanked Merlin that he had lived here for nearly fifteen years and had sensed exactly due to habit where his chair always was, for regrettably he had dropped into it without looking.

The last two days had not been kind to him.

_Life never had been…but this…this was enough. _

First, the Headmaster informed him that he was throwing not only a birthday party for him, but a costume party. He despised parties heartily. Well, he had only had less than he could count on his hand in his entire lifetime. They had stopped when he was five, when the troubles between his parents had started. When he had involuntarily first started to show signs of magical ability.

Second, after receiving word of this party nonsense, via invite, he had made a scene in said Headmaster's office.

It started off badly enough as he rushed through the halls and corridors of Hogwarts to confront Dumbledore in the Headmaster's office. He doubted anyone saw his shaking hands and the nervous tic that went away when he was seventeen years old that had come back.

But the school had observed his anger as he cut through the crowd to rail at Dumbledore and the unfairness of it all. It was his birthday approaching and Snape intended to spend it as he usually did. Just like any other ordinary day.

And Dumbledore too had observed his anger, until he nearly became unhinged…

"Do you have any idea…can you begin to fathom what you have done…to me?" he was breathless from astonishment and glared at the twinkling blue eyes behind the desk, once he had ascended the stone staircase and entered the office. His voice echoed within the huge high-ceilinged walls of Dumbledore's quarters.

"Yes, but it is not what you think, Severus," said Dumbledore calmly and patiently as he observed Severus Snape.

_And then his last…_

"You have used me…again. I will not suffer this treatment! Whatever do you hope to gain from this socializing nonsense when you know how much I dislike it? Sometimes I truly believe that though I have lied for you, spied for you, put my own life in peril, that perhaps you do not even consider my wishes from time to time."

"Trust me. I have my reasons. This will help our cause. You will see. It will make sense in time. Please be patient with me. Oh, and Severus…"

"Yessssss?" He could feel a blood vessel pounding dangerously.

"My source…the other one in the Order that wishes to remain a secret….tells me that you will be receiving another type of er, invitation…."said Dumbledore pleasantly.

"Does it have anything to do with this?" Snape was beside himself. _No…please…not another one!_

"Yes and no…I hear it will be on the same night," offered Dumbledore in a matter of fact fashion.

"What makes you think I will go to anything?" said Snape affronted.

"You must. Wait and we will speak again. Now you need to procure a costume, of course."

"I have my old one." Snape threw it out there, daring Dumbledore to comment on the basilisk costume.

"That, er, will do… and another thing…"

"I wait with bated breath…" He rolled his eyes vigorously.

"Be kind to Professor Vector."

"Septima? Er ,Vector? Why?"

"No reason especially besides the fact that it is the right thing to do, but she has accompanied you to the last few parties in costume…."

Snape smirked. His employer was right again.

And that was the next thing that was irking him. He realized that she had proved most helpful during other party debacles and that he would have to make sure she went with him again.

So he had gone to her office to ask her to be his date, while making it perfectly clear that it was not a date and that the very thought was disturbing in essence and revolted him.

She agreed. That was easy. But the nonsense that a man must say when procuring a date was horrible. He still had nightmares about it.

And now he realized that he had done the right thing, the smart thing, because the Dark Lord was throwing the Death Eaters, well, really himself, an anniversary party on the same date as Snape's birthday party and he would have to show up to both.

_Somehow…_

And somehow he had managed to get the impression that Dumbledore might just know something about this now and this may be why he was so annoyingly cryptic the other day.

And the hag, Vector, who had attended his last party, actually disguised as a hag, was expected to also come with Snape to this one.

And not because the Dark Lord liked her or any other creature of the night, but the reasons were twofold.

Most importantly, she helped keep Bellatrix Lestrange away and for that the Dark Lord was grateful.

Because he had no romantic interest in Bella or anyone else but she failed to see that after many attempts on Voldemort's end to dissuade her. Pointing out that she was married and that the Dark Lord had no love interests hadn't worked thus far.

And the Dark Lord had to prove that he was the best legilimans in the wizarding world and that he was right about Snape being in love with the hag, and _not _that no-count Arithmancer, in his opinion.

Snape couldn't exactly fail to appear with the" hag" because Voldemort would not be pleased. It could cost him his life.

_One just didn't disobey the Dark Lord…_

And the sad part was that he didn't have to pretend, because he was, in fact, very much in love with Vector.

_But I'd rather die than let her know_.

_And I would rather die than not protect her._

_So these parties would not be pleasant in the least._

And he wasn't even concerned about the embarrassment part, not even about the costume.

_Could Vector and I pull it off again?_

_Could we fool the Dark Lord twice?_

He would do anything in the world so as not to bring her and put her in danger, but it would be worse and raise even more suspicion if he disobeyed the Dark Lord and didn't bring her dressed as a hag like last time.

He was caught in a very precarious position….again.

And the Dark Lord…he had now just received the invitation earlier.

Charon had been shaking when he gave it to him.

It glowed; a ghostly pearl white and was in the image of the Dark Lord's face.

Snape had said it before and still believed it to be true.

The Dark Lord was never the same after that Avade Kedavra backfired.


	6. Chapter 6: The Basilisk in the Mirror

**Severus Snape's 35****th**** Birthday Celebration**

**Chapter 6: The Basilisk in the Mirror**

Professor Snape guessed that the pattern of bad timing and extreme misfortune would continue in his very long, dreary, and uncertain existence. Of course, if they hadn't had to attend the Dark Lord's anniversary party the costume would have been mediocre.

But no, it couldn't be. It couldn't be that he had to view this glorious sight knowing with regret that in a few hours instead of her pumpkin turning into a coach like the muggle fairytale, his fellow co-worker, spy, and the woman that drove him mad with longing,( that she was unware of, ) had to turn into a hag to disguise herself.

Vector had decided to dress as a fairytale princess for the party. Most likely to counteract the horror of once again dressing like a hag for the Dark Lord's party. He could sympathize, he guessed.

He had no such decisions to make. He would not procure a second costume. He had no ideas, and why not go with safe despite how horrific past experiences could be with this particular costume? _It could be worse_, he mused.

His fellow Hogwarts co-workers would most likely tell him to take a shot at it anyway, for nothing new could possibly be worse than the basilisk costume that looked like a muggle children's dinosaur character.

So he let the thought pass from his mind as he turned his concentration and eyes once more on Vector.

_Could anyone be more beautiful_? She had on a blue medieval gown and her hair was in long, flowing curls. She had a tiara with blue stones that even Ravenclaw would be jealous of. But it didn't matter. The face was ungodly gorgeous. He cringed thinking of the hag disguise. He savored and tried to drink in the very pretty picture she made now. It would have to sustain him later in the evening.

It almost made him forget how uncomfortable his own costume was. That and the fact that Sirius Black had begun to convulse and bend over with laughter the very minute Snape entered _his_ own 35th birthday party.

_Why he was even allowed on Hogwarts grounds anymore…_ Snape could hardly fathom. _Oh, wait, his godson was famous. That was why._

_And he did let us borrow his own grim abode for Order meetings_. Snape would willingly offer his own office. But then again, he could see the excuses members would make not to attend, and thought better of offering it up for Dumbledore's use.

So the only thing to do was bother Vector.

"I thought about what you said…"

"What was that?"

"You were wrong. Sirius Black is laughing at your princess costume, really, the ridiculousness of it coming from you. You should have opted for the hag earlier," he informed her lightly.

She gave him a slow winning smile. His heart leapt. She turned and smacked his basilisk head with her scepter. The felt snake tongue hit his face under the basilisk headpiece. He paused, glared at her, and rearranged his felt tongue to make it straight once more.

She smiled sweetly at him and graciously swept off towards the guests.

He slithered after her.

She turned once more. "Mind your tongue," she warned him imperiously.

"I don't need to be guided by your opinion, Vector."

"No. I mean literally…._mind your tongue_. The mirror, Severus, is over there." She pointed delicately and regally with her crystal barbarian club thing, he noted.

Snape slithered back in the other direction, ignoring the jests and laughter coming from where Sirius Black and Harry Potter stood.

The red felt tongue was dangling out and needed to be arranged again. He felt the top of his head. He noted that a piece of it was ripped. Probably when the harpy had struck him with her princess mace….er, scepter. He would have to try to stick it back in. He couldn't reach for his wand in the blasted and ungainly costume. He noted with horror once more, as he did the last Halloween gatherings over the years, the ridiculous head piece, the bright green sequins, the googly eyes, the huge hulking belly, and the dangling tongue that he just couldn't quite get right. He gave it one more rough shove and gave up.

He waddled back to Vector.

"Was that costume still in your cobwebbed closet?" barked Sirius in hysterics, as he passed him and kept walking unsteadily due to his incessant laughter.

Snape ingnored him. Well, he was about to offer a brilliant retort, but his fake forked felt tongue just slapped his face rendering him momentarily speechless, as if Vector in her dress hadn't done so before.

And then he noted Sinistra coming by, dressed as Gilderoy Lockhart. Vector noted his sneer and his eyes narrow with contempt. She ignored him. And thanked the costume once more that it mostly blocked out his facial expressions.

Sinistra greeted them cheerfully and twirled her peackock blue robes. Snape rolled his eyes and Vector had to smile. She indulged her friend's obsession with Lockhart if not really getting it.

Snape gathered that between the costume, Sirius Black, his own costume, and how he was quite sure that things would get worse, they were off to quite a start.

"I really am in the waiting room to hell," he announced to no one in particular.

"No, you are not. This is supposed to be fun. Not that you know what that means…"offered Sinistra.

"Yes, hell," he nodded reluctantly. "The closest turnstile nearest the entrance, Sinistra. join me…though I don't want to walk in with you wearing that."

"Believe me, the same goes for me. I still think you are just jealous of him," she sniffed.

"You are deluded. I can actually perform a spell, and the differences begin right there. Should I enumerate them further?" he raised an eyebrow.

"Uh, no."

"Good. I haven't the time, nor you the attention span of a normal functioning adult. Anyway, I see you have not brought, er, a date. Surely, the eligible bachelors of Hogsmeade were falling over themselves to ask someone whose idea of an ingenious and smart costume was Lockhart," he drolled with boredom.

"No," she blushed profusely. He had her. Nobody had asked her. There was hope for immature young males that he had taught. It was refreshing. He was older than Sinistra and Vector.

So he went in for the kill….

"You look distressed. Griphook taken? I haven't seen whom he came with yet.'

'Shut _up_, Snape."

"Did he dump you before the party? How utterly dreadful." Snape gave her a false sympathetic cluck.

"No, and no. I do not and never have gone anywhere socially with Griphook, okay?" spat out Aurora Sinistra.

"Your loss," said Snape flatly. "I can only venture to guess that you would utilize any attempts to carve a way out of impending spinsterhood. Am I wrong?"

"You are horrible."

"So I am correct then?"

"Just because…you can rub it in my face all you like. No, I was unable to get a date. But just because Vector, for some reason and against my advice, went with you in THAT costume again, doesn't give you the right….and she just wants to be a princess for one night so she needed a toad or whatever the hell you are. Oh, wait they _need _toads to hatch."

"She is a princess…."trailed off Snape, following Vector with his eyes, for she had the good sense to get some witch's brew or punch when he went at it with Sinistra.

Sinistra almost lost her golden Lockhart wig. She had been stunned that he hadn't been ready with remarks after her long rant, and it was so low, that she almost missed….

"What did you say?" she asked, her voice raising Sinistra could not believe what she had just heard coming out of a hole in the neck of the stuffed basilisk head.

"Nothing. Merely your costume is quite disturbing. But you are on any other given day so…"

"No, you said something and that was not it. I heard you. Should I dare repeat it? It should be remarked upon. It is the first nice thing I have ever heard you say."

"Sinistra, I am giving you until the count of two, not three, you are not getting three from me… to get as far away from me as possible in that get-up. Or I will also do two things. First, I will summon Griphook and you will not be dateless, and two, I will hex you as I once hexed Lockhart and then your costume will be strangely and ironically authentic. Which will it be? 1….1 and a half…" he said menacingly, yet in a soft and steady tone.

She sped away from him.

It was then that Professor Snape wistfully regretted that his damned costume did not come with the actual basilisk venom; enough to use on Sinistra and Black, and anyone else who annoyed him this evening. And he felt like a fool. He was the Potions Master. He should have thought of it.

It took him about five seconds to turn his costume to seek out Vector.


End file.
